


Davy Jones

by MrsMollyH



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Other, Rape/Non-con References, Squick, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-09
Updated: 2012-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-05 01:38:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsMollyH/pseuds/MrsMollyH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What you didn't see while Will was trapped on the Flying Dutchman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Davy Jones

There was the stench of rancid sea in Will’s nostrils and the sting of salt in his newly acquired lash injuries.

Davy Jones had taken him from his father, ripped him away with a slimy tentacle and ushered him roughly into the captain’s quarters where the pipe organ was kept in front of almost inconceivably huge plate glass windows at the stern of the Flying Dutchman.

Will’s shirt hung loose from his broad, sun-darkened shoulders. He could feel blood running down his back in rivulets, staining his skin as Jones hauled him forward. Jones tossed him toward the organ, and Will landed hard against the keys, where a discordant noise rose from the belly of the organ sounded across the room and across the ship.

“Father and son, together once again, aye?” Jones prodded Will. Slime and cold against Will’s back as the creature approached him—this was no longer a man he was dealing with, this thing was no longer human, but in fact part of the sea, Will decided, as the tentacles roamed his back, stinging and burning his open welts.

Will suppressed the urge to vomit as he felt one of the tentacles explore the waist and buttons of his breeches. He gritted his teeth and curled his lips, willing himself to remain silent.

“Sparrow offered you to me, Turner,” Jones murmured, what used to be lips smacking, “As a reward.”

Will shook his head, taciturn.

The tentacles were toying with the buttons at the young man’s hips and—there—one was undone, then another.

Jones released all half dozen of them, and Will’s breeches slid down his hips.

“I plan on accepting my reward,” Jones whispered, sea water escaping his piscine lips.

Will could feel pressure between the cleft of his buttocks, and his fingers grasped at nothing, striking desperate notes on the organ, hideous chords filled the air as his fear grew.

The stench was overwhelming, and the sting of salt water in his wounds was excruciating.

Slowly, Jones presses into Will with a tentacle that used to be part of a hand. Will groans in a high-pitched whimper from the dizzying white-hot pain. No amount of slickness or loosening could have prepared him for what was to come.

The hand-tentacle slid from within him, and Will breathed a quick sigh of relief from the blinding pain, but it was cut into a scream when a slick shaft pressed at his entrance and forced into him.

Will felt used and disgusted as the pipe organ sounded brilliant, dark keys under his scrabbling fingers.

The length inside him was cold as the trenches of the ocean and slick with slime and sea water. Will felt tears in his eyes as Jones began his painful sea-like rocking, thrusting something so alien and inhuman inside him that he felt debauched and unseemly.

Tears painted his cheeks as the mutated sex continued, Will’s fingers grasping for some hope as the captain of the Dutchman sullied his flesh. The heat of the pain was made worse by the humiliation of the act. Will was being used like a common cabin boy—like a common Tortugan whore.

Rain was slapping the windows as Will lifted his eyes to pray for relief and lightning struck somewhere far away and Will felt hope slip away like the keys beneath his fingers.

Certainly the crew of the Dutchman knew what those discordant notes meant—Will assumed this was a common occurrence and he grit his teeth as Jones thrust again. He could feel Jones’ tentacles searching out his own shaft and he again curbed his desire to vomit. Another tentacle had found its way to Will’s neck and was wrapping around it to hold the boy still. 

Will began to truly cry as Jones stroked his length and thrust harder, he could barely breathe and his fingers were finding no purchase but that offered by the grimy pipe organ keys.

Finally, Will felt the rhythm increase and Jones rocked harder than the surf, a wordless cry escaping what had once been lips, and Davy Jones came inside Will, thick and viscous. Will fell to the ground in front of the pipe organ and prayed to God for some salvation.


End file.
